God's holy name, are you quite sure of what
you have told us? For you would do ill to betray us." "My most dread
lord," answered Tanneguy, "I would rather be dead than commit treason
against you or any other: have ye no fear; I certify you that my lord
meaneth you no evil." "Very well, we will go then, trusting in God and
you," re-joined the duke; and he set out walking to the bridge. On
arriving at the barrier on the castle side he found there to receive him
Sire de Beauveau and Tanneguy Duchatel. "Come to my lord," said they;
"he is awaiting you." "Gentlemen," said the duke, "you see how I come;"
and he showed them that he and his people had only their swords; then
clapping Tanneguy on the shoulder, he said, "Here is he in whom I trust,"
and advanced towards the _dauphin_, who remained standing, on the town
side, at the end of the lodge constructed in the middle of the bridge.
On arriving at the prince's presence Duke John took off his velvet cap
and bent his knee to the ground. "My lord," said he, "after God, my duty
is to obey and serve you; I offer to apply thereto and employ therein my
body, my friends, my allies, and well-wishers. Say I well?" he added,
fixing his eyes on the _dauphin_. "Fair cousin," answered the prince,
"you say so well that none could say better; rise and be covered."
Conversation thereupon ensued between the two princes. The _dauphin_
complained of the duke's delay in coming to see him: "For eighteen days,"
he said, "you have made us await your coming in this place of Montereau,
this place a prey to epidemic and mortality, at the risk of and probably
with an eye to our personal danger." The duke, surprised and troubled,
resumed his haughty and exacting tone: "We can neither do nor advise
aught," said he, "save in your father's presence; you must come thither."
"I shall go when I think proper," said Charles, "and not at your will and
pleasure; it is well known that whatever we do, we two together, the king
will be content therewith." Then he reproached the duke with his
inertness against the English, with the capture of Pontoise, and with his
alliances amongst the promoters of civil war. The conversation was
becoming more and more acrid and biting. "In so doing," added the
_dauphin_, "you were wanting to your duty." "My lord," replied the duke,
"I did only what it was my duty to do." "Yes, you were wanting,"
repeated Charles. "No," replied the duke. It was probably at these
wor